


hollow bird

by mariiahills



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Gen, No Dialogue, Stanley Uris Commits Suicide, tw suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 11:37:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18135242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariiahills/pseuds/mariiahills
Summary: stan uris had always admired birds.a kinda non-linear fic that's stan-centric. written when i was watching "black swan", so it's inspired by it.





	hollow bird

**Author's Note:**

> heavy triggers in this. read at your own risk.

stan uris had always admired birds.

it was a strange sight to see- a teenage boy willingly spending his time with his head buried deep into his book, binoculars strapped around his neck, a snack near. but people of derry could all tell you that stan uris was not a particularly average boy.

then, something happened.

pennywise had come and gone. beverly and ben moved away, with beverly going to portland and ben to omaha. richie and eddie had new friends, mike decided to get homeschooled for a while. bill didn’t speak, he didn’t speak at all. 

it’s not like stan could blame any of them, pennywise was something they’d all rather not acknowledge. and being in a room together only reminded them of what had happened. 

his parents eventually notice, andrea and donald are particularly good at noticing. well enough to see that stan doesn’t have any friends anymore, well enough to see that the boy with the stutter doesn’t come around anymore, well enough to see how he’s not eating or sleeping or cleaning or watching his birds.

the uris family pack up their belonging in cardboard boxes. every single piece of the place he’d called home was safely stored in an u-haul. the summer before high school, stan moves to new york city.

even after relocating, even after forgetting most of what had happened, stan still doesn’t eat. his parents don’t ask about it anymore. he’s all skin and bone now. stretched out, stretched way, way, out. he looks in the mirror though, and he likes it. he likes the way his ribs protrude out from his body, likes the way his bony elbows dig into his side after a nightmare. 

new york city wasn’t a great place for bird watching.

too cramped, too dirty, too city-like. it’s a great, large, expansive space, central park, but it’s nothing compared to the fields of derry, maine. to stan, it makes him feel as if he was the bird that everyone was watching.

he takes up ballet again, after quitting in sixth grade. his instructor, madame rostova, a nice little russian lady, wakes up his passion for it little by little.

soon, he’s on pointe, being invited to workshops, having auditions handed to him. madame rostova insists on him going to an institute, somewhere he can refine his skills.   
his parents are skeptical, of course, a rigorous training program with nothing to fuel him? how do you feed a kid who doesn’t want to eat? 

stan wins his argument, his ambition is strong. the critics and reviews call him a “weightless bird”, and he, he’s very proud of that statement. 

he gets a good high off of these reviews, off of people raving about his height and his form and his weight and every single little characteristic about him. one might compare them to the facts and information in the eavy book he’d bring with him, one might compare him to a bird.

they’re doing swan lake this year as the ballet, and anyone can audition. stan’s sure he’s going to be the lead, he’s absolutely sure of it. especially after greta bowie broke her ankle and had to retire from being prima. 

stan throws himself into his work, in more than one way. his leaps of high off the ground, his pas de deux are spotless. he practices his jetes and piles and arabesques and pirouettes and fouettes. he does these on pointe, does them daily. he stretches and stretches and stretches. andrea is worried about her son. barely sixteen, and already so, so, work driven. 

when the cast list comes out, he’s casted as the swan princess- or prince, in this case. he’s elated, euphoric, overjoyed, but it isn’t enough. the role is hard, reverting between swan and human, good and bad. most are played by two dancers, but not this one. stan’s sure he can handle it.

the first time stan faints, it’s during the middle of rehearsal. one moment he’s sweating, breathing heavy, the next he wakes up in the hospital. they tell him to eat more, tell him to join a support group, to go to a therapist. he doesn’t listen, because birds who fly are made of hollow bones. 

after the scare, his company finds another swan prince. an understudy, they’d called it. in case he was ever sick or tired, or, dead. he’s immediately jealous. his role could be taken from him, stolen. the instructors praise the understudy, bill denbrough, who’s name seems unusually familiar, left and right, day and night. a new kid saunters in and takes his role, takes his place, is so much better at connecting to the emotions. 

so stan confronts him, and nothing goes well. neither like confrontation, and both are stubborn and arrogant. it drives a wedge between them, an uncomfortable silence during rehearsal. the sound of feet hitting the ground and soft piano music is all that is audible. 

bill’s the complete opposite of stan. his landing are loud, his leaps aren’t as high. he’d rather go to a party than practice, rather own a dog instead of a cat. they’re complete opposites, which explains why they’re good for the roles. 

the instructors tell stan to be more calm, to relax, to feel emotion, to be lie the son-of-a-bitch bill denbrough. he decided to get relaxed, just not in any literal sense. in the very real way. 

he makes his way after rehearsal to some dingey neighbourhood in brooklyn for a house part. he needs better relaxation skills, and going to a house part was regular stuff regular people did with their times. 

that’s the day when he takes his first shot of heroin. he almost doesn’t notice- being dragged over by a group of older guys. he’s hooked on the feeling, hooked on the emotions he felt, hooked on the idea of taking drugs.

the show rolls around in early april. 

he’s kind of an addict now, using concealer to cover up the needle marks. 

he’s also smaller than he was before, like his body as deteriorating right in front of everyone’s life.

ten minutes to finale, bill denbrough walks in, and stan cannot stand it. he’s filled with rage, undirected rage. the most powerful kind. stan’s gone psychotic, punching and kicking around, breaking his mirror and shoving the pieces into his-

into his-

where is bill denbrough, stan wonders. he’s regained control, regained sensed. that’s when he notices the blood dripping down, dripping from his stomach. did bill denbrough even exist?

stan does on for finale, ending with his eventual death. as stan falls onto the mattress hidden behind the platform, his eyes roll back, and he, he is, he is finally, finally, finally, the only swan prince.


End file.
